Something to Remember
by seeyousoon2day
Summary: America cannot remember the important thing that he was suppose to remember. . . what is it? What could it be? Couldn't be anyone's birthday. Nah. (Rated T for language.)
1. Chapter 1

**So here's my spiel before anything: I don't own Hetalia, I don't own the characters (Mr. Hidekaz Himaruya owns it all!) I am doing this because I want to work on my writing skills. It is not for monetary gain, etc.**

**Enjoy!**

There was something that he was forgetting. But Alfred could not put his finger on it. There was just something that he needed to do. What was it? It was gnawing at his brain. The North American nation could not shake the feeling off that he was forgetting something very important. _Very_ important. Not even as he walked into the conference room for the meeting that day.

He walked past a couple of nations on his way to his seat by England and France. Some were sleeping – particularly Greece – and others were just chatting with each other; though could Russia "chatting" with the Baltic nations really be considered chatting? Especially since all three were shaking and quivering as if in an earthquake?

America sat down, greeting both England and France; he received a "you wanker" and a kiss/wink combo, respectively.

"Hey dudes," America started, "do you feel like you have forgotten something? I mean something really important? You know?"

"You're being an idiot again," England scoffed.

"Whatever do you mean, Amerique?" France questioned.

"I don't know," he said, as he sipped on his mocha chai latte coffee stuff that he got from a McDonalds down the street, "It just seems that there is something . . . wrong. Like I forgot something extremely important."

"Maybe it's where you put your car keys . . . again."

America shot England an annoyed glance, right before pulling out his Thor keychain, which held every key he needed alongside a miniature Mjolnir figure.

"It's not that," he said bluntly.

"Well maybe you forgot the girl's name you made love to last night," France wrapped his arms around himself, making weird and frightening kissing noises.

"Uh . . . no. Definitely not that."

America sighed. He knew it was something important. However, before he could think any more on the subject, he heard a German's voice yelling close to his year. Germany was up on the podium calling the meeting to order.

"America?" the European nation asked.

"Uh . . . yeah?"

"Would you like to come up here and begin this meeting? Especially since you are the one hosting it?"

"Oh yeah!" America jumped out of his seat, grinning widely.

Germany sighed, as he made room for America to walk up to the podium.

"Hey guys! So we're here to talk about stuff! And how to better the planet and stuff! So listen up! Yeah!"

Who is to say how many people in the large meeting room slapped their heads with their hands – besides Germany and England – and who just lightly laughed at America for his "boisterous" personality. (Because how many people were able to speak correct English – mainly due to it not being their first language.)

As America sat back down, Germany took the stand once more, rubbing the bridge of his nose. America could hear him say something about headaches, but he just shrugged it off.

As Germany went forward with the meeting, America was finally able to think about what he was forgetting. He looked around the room, gnawing on the edge of his pen. Russia was still scaring the Baltic Trio, while Romano smacked Spain away from him. Italy was talking about his plans for making pasta for lunch to Japan, as the island nation just nodded and smiled. France was holding back a laugh, as he poked England in the cheek with his pen. The British nation cursed under his breath, swatting France away, telling him how "un-gentlemanly" he was being.

America could not find anything wrong. All of the nations who were attending the meeting were here. France, England, Japan, Italy, Russia, Germany . . . hell, even Prussia was in the corner shooting spitballs towards Austria, with an annoyed Hungry reaching for her frying pan.

There was just something. . .

"OH SHIT!" America jumped up, knocking over his chair and almost England too. The whole meeting room fell silent as America grabbed his coat and briefcase, and ran towards the door.

"America! Where do you think you're going! We're in the middle of a meeting!" Germany shouted, after getting over the shock of America yelling.

"Canada's house!"

"Canada's house?" England questioned, looking around the room, "But isn't he here?"

"Why there Amerique?" France asked, getting up.

America whipped around, looking straight at England and France, "Guess who's not here. And guess what day it was on the first?"

Instantaneously, England and France's faces were shocked and terrified.

"Oh shit!"

"Oh no! Mon cher!"

Following America's lead, both European nations ran out of the room towards the parking lot, with Germany yelling after them all the while.

"What the hell was that for?!" He growled.

Germany then caught his brother's eye. Prussia only shrugged at him, while unenticingly sending a text on his phone.

"Well at least without those three," the albino nation pointed out, "we won't have to worry about the meeting going over time again!"

As he started to laugh, Hungary finally hit him upside the head.

Germany, ignoring the fact that his brother was out cold, continued the meeting.

'Well at least mein Bruder makes a point.'


	2. Chapter 2

**It's short, but it'll have to do. I don't want you all to wait too long. Hetalia belongs to Mr. Himaruya Hidekaz, not me!**

Chapter 2

Alfred, Arthur, and Francis were all debating on who would ring the doorbell first. Even though they drove here at a blistering speed, probably breaking a few road laws in the process, none of them were able to be the first one to see Matthew. Even the hero did not have the courage to confront his own brother, after he had once again forgotten the man's special day.

However, after some time of fighting with each other, they all decided to walk up together. Very slowly. So slowly, in fact, that a family of snails had passed them on their way home. Finally, though, they were at Matthew's door.

"Now what?" Alfred asked.

"We knock, you git," Arthur gulped.

"Oui," Francis agreed, shakily.

Alfred's hand hovered close to the door. He was about to kno—

"AAAAAAAAHHH!" All three fell back, as the door threw itself open. However, they soon stopped screaming when they saw Matthew come around the door.

The tall, almost lanky, young man looked at all three of them.

"Oh . . . hey, Matty," Alfred stuttered, "how're you doin'?"

Matthew just looked on, as the three stumbled back to their feet, straightening themselves once more.

"Is something wrong, Matthew?"

Matthew just kept looking at them; as if that was the first time he had ever seen the trio.

"Mathieu?"

And then it happened.

Matthew's smile could be considered one of the most sincere and beautiful smiles throughout all the nation personifications. But his so-called closet relatives knew better. The best way to describe the situation now, without going into too much detail, was simple: Matthew was pissed.

"Hello. I see you made it here without too much distraction," Matthew's voice was that of honey, though the others could hear the venom in it, "Though I am afraid you can't stay. I can't have company right now. Goodbye."

Matthew slammed the door, making the three cringe.

"What do we do now?" Alfred asked, after a few moments of silence.

"I don't know," Arthur responded, "Do you know, France?"

What the French man did next surprised both of them. He unnervingly walked back up to the door, and knocked, "Mathieu? Mathieu open up. We want to talk with you, Mon Cher."

Alfred and Arthur stared tensely at the door as it slowly opened. Soon a head popped out.

Matthew was still smiling, "Why, whatever do you mean?"

Francis gulped down his fear, and spoke up, "You know what we need to talk about."

"Hmm," Matthew went on, "I don't think I do. Goodbye then."

But before Matthew could close the door completely, Francis slipped an arm through, "Mathieu. Please."

A sigh could be heard from the other side of the door, "Fine."

Matthew opened the door completely, walking away from his family. Francis took as second to take a calming breath, then stepped in. He turned around, waiting for the other two to gain the courage to enter the house – one that might be their final place to be alive.

"I'm a hero," Alfred told himself silently, as he walked through the door.

Arthur shook his head, trying to get his thoughts clear, "I hope this goes well," and then he walked into the house.

The door shut behind him, with a deadening sound.


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm sorry it has been so long. This should have taken me only one night . . . but I had school, and would like the money spent to go NOT down the drain. ^_^ Thank you for waiting! (Mr. Himaruya owns Hetalia, not me!)**

Chapter 3

Matthew sat down in his favorite chair, seeing his "family" walk through the door. Alfred tried to smile at him, but was shot down with a glare.

"So," Arthur started warily, "You indicated you knew we were coming – "

"A birdy told me," Matthew said sternly, "Didn't know you would actually come, though. It's not really like you all to think about me."

Francis went to Matthew's side, bending down on one knee, "Mon Cher, I am truly sorry I forgot. I have had so much work, and –"

"And there was no time to call. No time to think. No time to look at your calendar, and say 'Oh! My only son's birthday is today!* I think I'll notice him for once!'" Matthew sweetly spat out, "Well, we all can be a little busy, now can't we."

France was stunned into silence, his head bowing down in shame.

"Matthew, dear," Arthur said, "You can't blame the man for that. You should know how much a country works, especially during this time of the year-"

"And yet, you seem to always remember America's birthday," Matthew stated, poison on his words, "or is that just because you lost to him like a sorry beat down mutt that day? And then, didn't you come home and cry to me about how you lost your 'dear old son,' and how you didn't know what you would do without him, even though I was right there tending to your wounds?"

"Matthew, I-"

"You didn't even see me after that; you always mistook me for America, to fill that void in your heart."

And just like that, Arthur stood there, silenced by his shame as well.

Alfred looked around Matthew's small living room, trying to avoid his brothers' eyes, when he spotted a game on the console Matthew had. He picked it up, examining it, "Hey, Matty. I thought you weren't able to buy this yet. You said it was too expensive."

"Gilbert gave it to me. He came over yesterday, demanded some pancakes for breakfast, and surprised me with it," Matthew stated matter-of-factly, "Of course, that was before Ukraine, Holland, Cuba and a couple of others came over for a surprise birthday party. Hell even Russia called to congratulate me, even though he said something about sitting on me again at the next world meeting."**

Alfred slowly put the game down. He then walked over to Matthew, crouching down to his brother's eye level. Crystal blue eyes stared into amethyst ones.

"I can't say I'm sorry . . . because that wouldn't cover it," Alfred said.

Matthew was taken aback by how serious his brother was being. Usually Alfred tried to play off missing his birthday with some lame excuse. But right now . . . it was different to say the least.

Alfred took his brother's hand into his, "We've all failed at being there for you. We're your family, and we plain forget about you. It's not right."

"Alfred-"

"Mon Cher is right," Francis looked up at his former colony; his former son, "We have all been too busy to notice you. But that isn't right."

Matthew looked at him, "Papa."

A clearing throat made all three heads turn to see an embarrassed Brit standing on the other side of the room, "They are both right, Matthew. We've been so caught up in our own countries and lives, we forgot about you. And family – " he grew a little quieter, "Well . . . family should stick together."

"Arthur?"

Matthew did not know what to say. All three of the men, the proudest people he had ever known throughout his life, were apologizing. There were no hints or slight indications towards being sorry for what they had done. They were upfront about it. All three just confessed to how ignorant they were to him and his feelings. Matthew could not believe it.

"So," Alfred spoke, breaking the silence, "if there is any way we can make it up to you . . . well, is there?"

Matthew looked down once more to see his brother's big puppy-dog eyes staring back at him. He smiled.

Without a word, he stood up and headed to the kitchen. Alfred and Francis looked at each other. Was he going for a make-shift weapon? No, couldn't be. That smile was genuine . . . maybe.

Matthew came back into the room, holding a cake, which had red frosting with white in the middle, and a small red maple leaf made out of strawberries.***

"Can we just sit down and watch a movie. I hear _Meatballs_ is a pretty good one."***

All three men smiled.

"Sure."

"That would be great."

"Mon Cheri. What a great idea."

As Francis and Arthur grabbed some plates, Alfred found and put the movie in, turning on the flat screen TV. Matthew sat down on the large couch and started to slice the cake into eight equal pieces. He figured that if his former caretakers would not be able to finish two slices, his brother would.

With cake on their plates, and each one of them sitting comfortably on the couch, Alfred pushed play on the remote. Each and every one of them – Arthur, Francis, Alfred, and Matthew – were completely content.

Hearing the noise from the living room, Kumajiro walked in to find the family enjoying themselves. He walked up to his owner, looked up at him, and asked, "Who are you?"

"He's Canada," three of the men said before Matthew could chime in.

Matthew started to silently laugh. Even if they did forget him sometimes, his family meant a lot to him.

/

/

/

Gilbert woke up to the sound of his ringtone buzzing through the night. He sighed, leaned over to his bedside table, and grabbed his phone. The awesome energy lost in those moves was well worth it, when he opened the text and saw a picture of Alfred, Arthur, and Francis sleeping on a couch, heads leaning on each other's shoulders. The words under the picture said, "_They look so adorable right now. Should I still be mad at them?_"

Gilbert grinned evilly. One of his best buddies was severely hurt by the people who were supposed to be the closet to him. But they looked so innocent right now.

Gilbert typed his answer and sent the message, falling back to sleep once his laid his phone down.

Matthew's phone buzzed in his pocket just as he placed the dishes in the sink. He looked at Gilbert's response, almost laughing loud enough to wake his guests.

"Well I guess I should take his advice," he told himself, walking back into the living room.

Kumajiro, who had followed his owner into the kitchen in hopes of food, was able to read the message before Matthew walked away, "Uh-oh."

"_They don't deserve mercy. If they want some, let them have cake! On their heads!_"

/

End?

/

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/

*I am basing this theory on the fact that Canada was the only place – now nation – that was under France's care (with a male persona in the Hetalia world.) However, correct me if I'm wrong. I know Seychelles was under France's rule, but she is female in Hetalia.

**Canada has many friends. He was the first to recognize Ukraine as a country. He helped to save the Netherlands in WWII, ending up with the country giving him tons of tulips each year. He and Cuba are friends in the anime series. And yes, Russia still sits on him – but I think it's because Russia doesn't know what a real joke is. And let's not forget that Canada is friends with Prussia, which probably stems back to him being under France's rule, and Prussia (anime wise) being France's friend.

***I was looking through Google images, and found many pictures of "Canada Day cake" where the maple leaf is made out of strawberries. Sounds delicious! Also, the movie _Meatballs_ was a 1979 Canadian comedy, which is also noted as the first film appearance for Bill Murray. Haven't watched it yet, but it sounds really good.


End file.
